Welcome to my little haven

…But you’ve probably been friends for too long, you think. The relationship would have changed by now if he was interested. He’s not the kind of guy to want something without having it for very long, not without doing something about it. It’s not gonna happen. It’s a wild, hilarious thought—you’ve been friendzoned by a turtle—but that’s just the life you have now, you guess.

So when it finally, suddenly happens, to say you’re surprised is a bit of an understatement.

You’re in his lab, helping him organize his screwdriver collection. Sometimes they get a little mixed up if he gets worked into a frenzy or so tired his eyes start to blur, and it feels good to help him. He likes having your hands for the more boring chores, and you like basking in the dorky little smile he gives you as thanks.

Lost in the monotonous task, you don’t notice him staring, his eyes burning between your shoulder blades, until you feel him in your personal bubble. It’s a blink of time, a breath of awareness, then everything changes.

Donnie tucks his face into your throat, his plastron pressed along your spine as his hands cup your hips and pull them back into his own. Shocked at the intimacy of the touch, you feel yourself go still in his hold, wondering if there’s a gas leak in his lab and you’re hallucinating. 

His mouth parts, his teeth find your pulse, and you decide this is very, very real.

“D… Donnie?” you manage, voice syrupy in your own ears.

“…Smell good,” he murmurs into your skin, pressing into you harder, stepping impossibly closer, forcing you forward until your thighs are caught between his and the edge of the table and you have to smack your palms onto it to keep upright. A cup of screws falls over, spills; but he doesn’t react. Your eyes dart over to the door of his lab; it’s wide open, and you’re not even remotely tucked away back here. 

“Donnie—Donnie, what are you—” you say, though your voice catches in your throat when you feel him turn his head, tucking his beak behind your ear and brushing a long line of claiming kisses down to your shoulder. Your eyes flutter, blood beginning to rush hot in your veins even as you look again to the door of his lab.

Donnie, if he cares, doesn’t show it. Not in the way he slides one hand up your shirt, seeking skin and seeming intoxicated when he finds it. You feel his moan between your shoulder blades as much as you hear it, making your eyes squeeze shut. Oh, wow, that’s—that’s even better than all the times you’ve imagined it, and you’ve maybe imagined it a lot. 

“…too soon,” he mumbles, though how you’re able to catch it when his fingers are fumbling at the button to your jeans, you’re not sure how. 

“Wh… What’s too soon?” you ask, licking your lips and trying to scoop enough consciousness together to talk. “Don—Donnie, you—Did you drink something? Smell something? This is—”

Donnie stops, his forehead finding your shoulder. He’s shaking, you realize, but when you try to turn he presses you harder against the table, pinning you into place. Oh god, oh fuck.

“About two weeks early,” he says through what sounds like clenched teeth. “Shouldn’t—Shouldn’t be happening yet. Normally I can feel it coming on and warn you, but—Have I ever told you you smell really good? You smell so good—”

He shifts his face again, pressing his beak to the corner of your throat and shoulder to inhale deeply. Your hair stands on end, goosebumps flaring down your skin like wildfire. An embarrassing noise catches in your throat. You swallow it, brow furrowing. “What’s early?”

His lips move in a mumble that disappears into the neckline of your shirt. A neckline which, you suddenly realize, is damp from where he’s mouthing at it. Like he’s trying to take it off of you with his teeth. That’s—okay. That’s a lot.

“Didn’t catch that,” you wheeze. 

“…mating season,” he enunciates, igniting every single cell in your body. 

“You… have a mating season,” you choke, staring deliriously at one screw that slowly spins in a circle. He nods. “And you—You’re doing this with—me?” 

“Always you,” he says, starting to ramble as he tugs at the hem of your shirt like it’s offending him. “Every Spring, I feel it coming and you always look so pretty and happy. I’ve been wanting to ask you for years, but I—I’ve never worked up the cour—You smell so fucking good. Can I—I want to—” He whines, trembling, you think, from the concentration it’s taking for him to hold back and speak. His hands are tight on your sides, gripping you, just shy of where it’ll leave a mark.

Your eyes burn as you squeeze them shut. There’s a conversation to be had here, about why he was so fucking stupid and didn’t talk to you, about how much you’ve wanted this too, about what it’s going to mean—but that can be had later, especially considering you’re not completely sure he’s all there. 

“Yeah,” you gasp out, reaching out a hand to snatch at his and bring it to the button of your jeans again. “Yeah, let’s—yes.”

His wrist twists and he’s got his fingers inside your underwear faster than you can suck in a breath at the sudden jolt of pleasure. Beak pressed to your cheek, you hear Donnie chanting thank you thank you thank you, mouth hanging open before he brings his slick fingers to his mouth to slide them inside and wrap his tongue around them. 

“Donnie, fuck,” you breathe when he groans like he took a hit of something hard. It’s wet in your ear, and when he slides his fingers back to your clit and starts to trail biting kisses along your jaw, you can’t help but think about it. Your arms quake where they’re holding you up, helping you press against him, taking the weight of where he’s draped himself like he wants to be your shell.

An impatient noise rips out of his throat, and you feel his other hand tugging at the waist of your jeans. Huffing a laugh at his uncharacteristic ineffectiveness, you grab his wrists to pull him away before you shimmy them down your legs. 

…It’s right when he gets his fingers inside you, stretching you, pretty moans of your name in your ear, when you remember the whole door situation. 

“Donnie—”

“Wanna fuck you,” he slurs against your nape. Your skin stretches too-tight, the bottom of your stomach dropping out in arousal. “Smell like you. Want you to smell like me—” 

He grabs something out of the toolbox, a loud clattering sound, and you feel your panties go slack at your hip, then fall to the floor when he pulls the fabric away. “You—Did you just cut my—”

“In the way. More efficient,” he answers, dropping whatever it was back into place without a care. There goes your toolbox organizing, though it’s maybe hard to care when you feel something slick rub against you, his tail dipping between your legs and pressing close. “Mmm. Spread your legs, pretty. Little more. There, right there.”

He holds you still when he’s happy with your position, one hand at your hip and the other spreading you open in a manner that has the whole door situation falling pretty low on your thinking about this right now list. You’re more interested in the glide of his cloaca against you, the promise of his hitched breath in your ear, the wet kiss that morphs into a low moan as he drops inside of you. 

“Donnie,” you moan, head falling between your rolled shoulders as pleasure makes you tremble. It feels incredible how he fills you, your lungs unable to expand to breathe as it feels like he’s all the way in your throat. His hands grab your hips and tilt them, using them as leverage as he ruts wetly in a filthy glide that makes you mewl and twist. 

Through the fog of bliss, you hear him; he’s babbling, nigh-incoherently. You can just make out a few phrases here and there—so pretty, smell so good, fill you up, breed you full—that make you absolutely incinerate. It feels like he’s consuming you, his whines and moans ringing in your ears. 

The rising tide of ecstasy burns like fire in your veins, your teeth releasing your lip as you’re no longer able to contain the animal noises he’s clawing out of you. Nails dragging along the surface of his table, you come, wailing his name. He presses, making your elbows bend, and you fold into the table as he rails into you with hard slapping hips until he, too, climaxes. His forehead presses hard between your shoulder blades as he fills you, hot and more than you’ve ever taken before, until you feel it running down your legs where you can’t take any more. 

“…Holy shit,” you pant, barking a disbelieving laugh. Donnie, seeming annoyed that you’re able to talk, sinks his teeth into your throat before he kisses it to soothe. 

“Sorry, I, uh. I was hoping we’d talk about that before it happened,” he says once he can breathe again, sounding a little guilty. You shoot him an incredulous look over your shoulder. 

“Are you insane? You just made me come my brains out. How are you apologizing right now? That’s, like, the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.” You glance to the door. “Um. Even if I’m pretty sure everyone else heard it, too.” 

He huffs a laugh, nuzzling his face into your nape. “They’re, uh. Gone. For the week. I’m usually on a bit of a delayed cycle from the others, but I think you being here triggered it. I always love how you smell, and I guess the turtle brain just decided it was tired of waiting on me.” 

Oh, that’s… really sweet, you think, trying not to cry. You lick your lips, opening your mouth to speak only for a whimper to come out instead, forehead rolling on the table’s surface, when you feel his cock start to slide out. 

“Sorry, sorry, it’s—” he breathes, hips pressing a little harder against your own until you feel empty again. As he moves, you hear the wet sound of his cloaca rubbing against you. “Huh. You’re kind of a mess.” 

“Yeah, thanks for that,” you wheeze, trying not to get turned on again when you’d just come. “So, um… season. That’s like, more than once, right?” 

The test you figured you should take after having irregular morning sicknesses and developing odd appetites. And also since you and Hank have been…a little more active lately.

You were surprised to hear a gentle knock on the door. "My Dear?" You heard your husband call out for you. You had been in there for quite some time, so he was surely worried about you. "I'm um- almost done sweetheart!" You say shakily, frantically looking for a hidden spot to shove the white and blue plastic strip. What was he going to think of your positive test?!?

"Is everything alright?" He cracks opens the door enough to see you, a concerned look written on his face.

His gaze finds you on the floor, looking back up at him with your hand clenched around the pregnancy test. His golden eyes flicker knowingly between you and your balled hand, before deciding to walk inside and kneel on the floor in front of you.

"May I see?" He asks you softly, extending his open hand. You felt your throat form a lump and your lip quiver as you hand it him, anxious to see his reaction.

He sees the positive sign, making his eyes widen in surprise before making their way to you. He sees your nervous expression, making his shocked one soften. He clears his throat before speaking.

"Well, how do you feel?" He sets the test aside, taking your hands in his larger ones.

The pressure behind your eyes threatened to turn to tears. "Is it bad that I want to have kids with you?" You almost choke on your words as they leave your lips.

"Oh my love." He says, hearing the heartache in your broken voice. He pulls you into his chest, his warm embrace overwhelming you with emotion so much you couldn't help but cry.

"You'll make a wonderful mother..” He hums, stroking your hair. “I was so scared I failed to realize what I wanted most…what we wanted most.” His words caught you by surprise, he has wanted kids after all…he was just unsure.

“You’ll make a great father.” You sniffled, looking up from his chest. He gave you a soft smile, reaching his hand to your face to wipe your tears. “We’ll make sure our baby’s safe..” He promises, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The rest of the months went by, gathering baby clothes, bottles, blankets, diapers, and anything else the baby could need.

You and Hank had gone back and forth on a name during the months, many of the other X-Men suggesting names to you as well. But neither of you quite liked how much of them sounded.

“I want it to mean something,” Hank said, sipping from a cup of coffee. You were both in the kitchen with a couple of others while you made everyone breakfast. “To have sentimental value and significance,” He glances at Logan briefly, hiding his smirk behind his mug.

“Not a basic name like hmm…Logan..” He hums in a teasing tone, earning an annoyed exclamation from Wolverine who was also at the table.

You rolled your eyes at his playful attitude.

“I think I like the name Hannah for a girl..” You offer, flipping the pancakes you were making. You wondered if he’d noticed it was an H name.

Hank sets down his mug and hums in thought. “I think I quite like that…” He says tapping his hand on the table. “I don’t think I’ve met a lot of Hannah’s either.” Scott chimes in.

“What if it’s a boy?” Jean asks curiously, walking past you to make her own cup of coffee.

You smiled, putting the pancakes on a plate. You already knew what you wanted to name the boy, but you haven’t said it yet. You wanted it to be a surprise.

“Hmm I don’t know I guess I’ll have to sleep on that.” You say, putting the plate of pancakes on the table for everyone to eat.

Later that night you watched Hank brush his teeth, getting ready for bed as you were waiting to tell him.

You heard the sink stopped running, the bathroom lights flickering off along with it. He walked to your shared bed before getting underneath the covers.

“What do you think about Henry?”

He paused, propping his head on his hand to look at you. “What do I think about myself?” He jokes with a raised brow, still in the midst of confusion. You snort at his answer before answering him. “No silly, for the baby…”

You watch his face as he looks at you, beginning to understand. “If it’s a boy I want him to be named after his wonderful father…” You look from him to your stomach, smiling as you stroked your thumb along your belly.

When you looked back at him his eyes were glossed over with emotion. “You’d really like that?” He asked softly.

You smiled back at him, resting your hand on his cheek. “You said you wanted the name be significant,” You move your hand placement to the back of his neck.

“And what more significance is there than the man that I love…” You go to pull him in for a kiss, but it was as if his lips were already there.

If he could pour all from the love he had for you in his heart into your lips, Hank would’ve done so in this moment.

ᥫ᭡—————————————————————Leo

Thinks this plan is the most juvenile, cliche thing he’s ever thought up. That won’t stop him from stepping up and offering to be the one to ‘date’ you, though. His plan, his responsibility. Besides, this one involves the possibility of you getting targeted and probably hurt, too. He needs to have control over the situation from the inside, and he can’t do that if one of his brothers is gonna be the one to ‘date’ you.

Is so incredibly awkward with what fake dating actually entails. Forget the touchy bits, he can’t get over having to make it obvious he’s heading to your place. He’s a ninja, he moves in the shadows, he’d never slip up and let himself be tailed. His pride gets in the way of a lot of things, and carrying out the very mission he came up with is one of those. You’re more likely to get fed up than all shy and nervous if you fake date Leo. 

Once that particular hurdle is cleared though. Watch. Your. Feelings. By god can Leo do something if he puts his mind to it. His charm is turned up to the maximum, even when he’s being a little nervous about it. This fake dating schtick needs buildup to work. Leo is a master of buildup. He ends up getting so good at it he almost fools you. Key word: almost. With how much he texts you to debrief after every late night in your apartment or on a roof you couldn’t possibly misconstrue his actions as being anything other than performed. He practically sends you a three page document every time- going over the likelihood he was tailed, the plan for next time to lure the foot out, and how you could improve your act (you get incredibly ticked off over time with that last one. Who does he think he is?)

Leo would probably awaken a ton of urges through your little fake dating act. He’s no doubt stupidly touch starved, as are all of them, really, but he subconsciously gets addicted to the contact. It has to be very obvious, unmistakeable contact so the soldiers creeping on the two of you and using their binoculars to peer through your tiny apartment window will get the message. Leo starts to touch you casually without realising, even while you’re down at the lair. Hand on your shoulder, on your waist to move you out of the way, on your face to brush off a stray eyelash without asking. At your apartment he’s getting a kickkk out of having you in his lap, backing you into walls, feeling you touch him and hold his hand. Leo’s getting spoiled.

Is a massive fan of looming over you. Even if you’re tall, he’s finding a way to loom. Seeing you embarrassed and unable to brush off the fake dating stuff the way you’ve brushed off so many other things on so many other missions gives him some weird satisfaction. He’s a bit of a weirdo like that, but it pushes the two of you a step closer to dating for reals.

Cheek kisses. For literally the longest time. From an angle it looks like he’s actually kissing you so the two of you were banking on that being enough. Alas, it isn’t. The first kiss the two of you have is right in front of the window, but it doesn't feel fake at all.

ᥫ᭡—————————————————————Mikey

He was nominated for this one! Mikey is the best at putting people at ease and lightening the mood, and his brothers decide by majority that he’s going to be the one to ‘date’ you. Leo is probably most likely to step down if he believes Mikey can do a better job and make you more comfortable than he can. Mikey is ecstatic, he’s already planning extravagant ways to fool the foot and thinking up matching fits to really sell the image.

Mikey gets shy when he does actually have to follow through, though. He’s completely fine with everything until he gets too caught up and turns around and finds his face inches from yours; that silly goofy grin falters and you can see his eyes get all wide. Expect him to back away and hastily call ‘time out, time out, time out’ when he gets too flustered. It serves to make you nervous too, so now both of you are an awkward, bumbling mess. Mikey never quite gets over that particular habit.

He ends up being a little too obvious if that’s possible. “Come here,” and he’s dragging you over to the window or a more visible place to repeat that cute little action you just did so the people tailing you can spot it. This turns into him doing it for everything. You hold his hand; he’s pulling you to the window and letting go of you just so you have to do it again in the soldiers’ line of sight. Maybe it’s a subconscious thing; Mikey wants you to repeat it, and this is just a perfect excuse. His reasoning is that he’s totally acing the mission. Though, from an outside perspective he might as well lean out of the window waving your intertwined hands yelling “we’re dating!” Not the most subtle but the tangerine turtle has good intentions.

Three words to sum up how it all goes careening off the rails: touch starved Mikey. Again, like Leo, he’s getting too comfortable with the increased touchiness. Is it really fake dating when he kisses your forehead as a ‘hello’ even when there’s no one there to fool? The same goes for petnames; they slip into everyday conversation, though with a lot more intent than the actions. Playing a game with his brothers means Mikey is throwing an arm around you and waggling his (nonexistent) eyebrows as he says “we can be a team, right babe?” and shoves a controller into your hands. Will absolutely use the fake dating thing as a way to pair the two of you up for everything.

Mikey starts hankering after your touch. He’s always joking around, but when things get a little too serious as you both put on an act for the foot soldiers Mikey stops kidding. His earnest, honest feelings shine through and he acts like he really likes you, enough to make you wonder if this whole fake dating thing isn’t entirely fake after all.

Mikey is too shy to properly kiss you to make it convincing, the most he can bring himself to do is kiss nearrrr your mouth and pray it looks real enough. You have your arms around his neck and he has his hands on your waist, like clockwork he leans in to slowly plant a kiss next to your mouth and you can feel his heart hammering hard through his plastron. It never drops in pace, no matter how many times he does it. You think he’d pass out if he properly kissed you.

ᥫ᭡—————————————————————Raph

Surprisingly the most casual of the brothers. He’s all for teasing and being playful, so fake dating is easy peasy. Raph is the least likely to be trusted with the task of ‘dating’ you, purely because he’s very emotionally volatile and there’s always a risk of things not working out right. However, he ends up doing a pretty good job, even by Leo’s standards. Make no mistake, Raph is super gruff and awkward about it, but the two of you ease into it and it gets reallll simple with time.

Raph does this arm-swing+pivot-in-a-circle combo when he’s embarrassed and awkward, like he’s attempting to be all casual about it but he just isn’t. If you grab his hand and show that you’re making an effort to really get this mission to succeed, he’s going to be incredibly reassured and will do the same for you. He gets super serious when he’s discussing the plan with you down in the lair. You will end up getting embarrassed. That’s when his evil, teasing side kicks in. Don’t worry, Raph makes up for it by being the most casual about the rest of the arrangement. You’ll feel comfortable in a way you wouldn’t with his other brothers.

He’s got no problem pulling you onto his lap where the two of you are easily viewable on a rooftop or through your apartment window; this is all for the mission, even though he is a little shy. Most of his confidence comes from knowing that if the foot soldiers tracking the two of you try anything, he’ll be able to protect you. 10/10 bodyguard over fake boyfriend. Raph pulls his phone out and gives it to you so you can do whatever you want on it to pass the time, because it’s not like he uses it for much and you can’t reach your phone with him holding you. He’s got the ‘cut up fruit on a plate instead of apologising’ kind of affection but he’s got this stuff down.

The king of touch starvation followed closely by Donnie. This man trails behind you like a lost puppy after you’ve established the fake dating thing. Leans his face into your hand and kisses the swell of your palm under your thumb oh so tenderly. He’s so egregiously weak for your touch, even if it’s all fake. Let him have this, just this once. Pretend you don’t notice him relishing getting to grab you and squish you to his chest until you’re both laughing. It's for the mission ofc.

Raph would’ve straight up kissed you had you not shied away the first time his face got super close to yours. He resorts to pecking the tip of your nose. Anytime you guys need to fake a kiss, he kisses your nose and affectionately noogies you as though trying to cancel out the intimacy of the former action. Every time without fail.

In private Raph muses over the kisses a billion times over and mentally analyses the look on your face, whether or not you shrank away in embarrassment or fear and if he could get away with doing that more often with you. His feelings go allll over the place. Raph is 50/50: worried you don’t want to be doing this with him and not particularly paying much attention to it because it’s just for a mission. He views it the same as training or patrols, just another task to do. And then he proceeds to over analyse it again. Real muddle of emotions he is. Expect him to get too caught up in the act while he’s at your apartment and end up actually kissing you.

ᥫ᭡———————————————————Donnie

Donnie thinks this whole thing is very slightly stupid. But he too is sometimes stupid and that leads him to go along with it. Either he pulled the short straw or there was heavy peer pressuring from his siblings to ‘date’ you for this one; I don’t see him involving himself in a plan like this beyond being support. However, you’re a good friend so this can’t hurt! He’s interested in the trial and error aspect of fake dating too. This whole thing is basically just a social sciences experiment. Leo backs off because he trusts Donnie to calculate things like how long you’d need to ‘date’ to ensure the foot clan would be confident in the legitimacy of your ‘relationship’.

Makes it super obvious, but in trying not to make it obvious. “No, just sit there and look pretty and they’ll buy it, I promise. Turn a bit. More to the left. Perfect! Are the candles too much?” You end up getting fed up like two minutes in because him being nervous is making you nervous. You grab his face and snap him out of it. “Donnie! You’re stressing me out!”

He’s a ball of nerves but keeps things resolutely professional. He schedules out an abundance of fake dates and sends you a list of potential activities that aren’t too demanding but will work in your favour. Honestly once the two of you get into the swing of things it gets pretty fun; you devise games and place bets on who can play the most convincing partner. Be prepared to be hounded with all sorts of tracking devices in preparation. He tries to reassure you the emergency buttons are just in case, but follows that up with “well to be accurate you are bait, so…”

He chills out with time, however, his touch starvation kicks in and shoots his nervousness back up. Is he kissing the top of your head too much? Should he stop holding your hand, or should he hold your hand more? Is it wrong for him to knock his nose to yours and tell you to kiss him on the cheek for the foot soldiers no doubt watching you from the rooftop across the street? Please keep fidgeting with his fingers and sitting in his lap. Your pupils dilated 35% when you looked at him. Have you always been so soft?

He’s also the most likely to do accidental boyfriend stuff when the two of you aren’t faking. He carries your bags, pulls you casually into his chest out of the way of Raph and Mikey when they’re bantering, takes care of you when you feel sick and rubs your back. Like Leo, watch your feelings!! Donnie doesn’t let extremely touchy habits stray into interactions outside the ones where you have the enemy as an audience, but he does get a bit more comfortable with joking around with you. If anything fake dating him will make you two closer friends.

His way of faking kisses when the two of you are on a ‘date’ is to kiss your forehead, or between your eyes. He turns his back to the general direction he knows you’re being watched from and smooches your forehead and pinches your cheek gently afterwards to get you to smile at him, which relieves his own anxiety. You actually commenting on anything related to touching (asking if you can hug him, mentioning how warm he is) will take him out if the fake touching itself hasn’t already. He’ll sooo let it slip that he wants to kiss you for real.